


Give the Man(ny) a Hand(y)

by HankyWanky (orphan_account)



Category: Swiss Army Man (2016)
Genre: (kinda), Awkward Sexual Situations, M/M, Masturbation, Necrophilia, Probably ooc, just......awkward in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/HankyWanky
Summary: Manny needs help in getting "rid" of his erection.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was kind of surprised there was no "resolution" (so to speak) for Manny's erections so I wrote this. It's awkward. Enjoy~

“Hank?”

“What is it, Manny?” Hank responds from over his shoulder, all the while scavenging through the pit of trash nearby.

“W-what do I do now?” Manny asks with a slight worry in his voice.    
  
Manny has been preoccupied with the water-damaged  _ Sports Illustrated _ that Hank found for him. It’s been open to the same girl in yellow. Manny’s boner is absurdly tenting out of his suit pants.

Hank stands up and turns toward Manny. “Well, you know, you masturbate.” His voice sounds very weak. He doesn’t want to have this conversation with anyone, let alone with a farting corpse.

“How do I do that.” Manny says, no question mark.

“You just--” Hank does the ‘jack off’ motion with his left hand, hoping that Manny would get the picture. He doesn’t. 

“Hhhank, I can’t move by myself. Can you help…” Manny trails off, his blue eyes going back to the faded  _ Sports Illustrated _ pages.   
  
Hank buries his face in his hands and sighs. “I...don’t think I can…” 

Manny’s boner seems to jump around in his trousers. “How else can this go away?”   
  
Hank walks over next to him and reaches towards the magazine. “Just stop looking at these pic--”   
  
Before Hank can finish, Manny cuts in. “No! I want to try!” He says with as much force as he can.

Hank groans and goes back to the trash pile. If he ever makes it out of here, he’s going to have to reconnect with his therapist. 

\-------------

After propping Manny up at the base of a tree and slinging an old pair of pantyhose around a low branch (and Manny’s right hand), Hank manages to fashion a masturbation tool that he’s not going to patent any time soon. He bends Manny’s knees somewhat to allow him to see the magazine pages as he sits at the foot of the tree. 

“So you just...grab it and look at the picture.” Hank says, his eyes closed tightly so he doesn’t have to witness putting Manny’s hand on his cold (yet very, very hard) dick. “Just don’t hold it too tight.” 

“You got it, buddy.” Hank says, giving as much of a smile as his face can allow. 

“Okay, I'm going to be right over here--” he goes over to the other side of the branch, his eyes still avoiding the entirety of Mannys figure. He grabs hold of the other side of the pantyhose and starts to gently pull it down. Mannys grip moves in tandem with Hank pulling on the makeshift “rope.”

“Wow,” Manny exclaims, “this feels good! Really good! How do you not do this all the time?!”

“Pretty easily,” Hank mutters, an image of his mother flooding his mind. He turns almost entirely away from Manny.

“But it feels so good! I don't want it to stop!” He says in wonderment. the rustling of his clothing and the sticky sounding sound of Mannys hand stroking his cock fills Hanks ears with a cacophony of unfortunate sounds. He starts to tug on the pantyhose faster in order to make him finish quicker.

Manny gasps (as much as a dead man can gasp, seeing as he doesn't need air) at the increased speed. “Ahh, oh,  _ Hank _ ! This feels even better than before! What happens at the end?!”

“You'll see soon enough, Manny.” He pulls down on the ‘hose, feeling Manny’s hand counteracting with the tension. Manny is starting to moan pretty consistently, so much so that Hank is specifically telling himself not to have his moans seep into his memory. 

The rough bark of the branch rips the pantyhose. Hanks side of the tights land on his face, almost mocking him for thinking this would work. 

“No, no, no!” Hank says to himself.

“Hank, why'd it stop?” Manny asked, his eyes still set on the girl in the picture. 

Hank suddenly feels exhausted. “The tights snapped, Manny.” He sighs.

“How can I finish?” Manny asks, looking over at Hank from the corner of his eye. “I wanna know how it feels, Hank!” 

“I could find another rope of sorts--” he says, still turned away from him. 

“Wait! Hank! You have hands! You could do it for me!” Manny says, as if struck by a brilliant idea. 

“Manny, I don't--” he starts, not quite knowing what excuse to throw out. “I can't.” He says quietly, so quietly that he doesn't think Manny hears him. 

“Sure you can! You can move all by yourself! If I could move like you, I'd help you out! Friends do that!” Manny interjects, incredibly chipper. His cock is still hard in his hand. 

\-----

Hank lays down next to Manny, his head still turned away from him. He places his hand over Mannys. His fingers are ice cold. This sensation is too much for Hank. The most he's ever done with someone else is hold a girl’s hand when he was about twelve. To jump straight to helping a guy (a  _ deceased  _ guy, nonetheless) jack off is not helping his anxiety and uncomfortableness with the situation.

“Hank?” Manny asks. 

“What is it?” 

“Why aren't you looking at me?”

“Well….because….” he trails off.   
  
“Do you not like looking at me?” He asks, dejected.    
  
Hank squeezes Manny’s hand. He finally turns to look at him in his piercing blue eyes (but not below the belt). “No! It’s not that, I just…” His mouth can’t seem to form all the words he wants to say. Hank clears his throat and starts moving his hand around Manny’s once again.   
  
Manny sighs, and Hank’s breath hitches. For a split second, Hank imagines how Manny was when he was alive. Would living Manny be friends with Hank? How would he be as a person? Would he  _ like _ Hank to do this to him? Would he fart as much as dead Manny does?   
  
Manny moans again, saying, “H-Hank, this feels even  _ better _ than before! I like your hand helping out!”    
  
Hank feels his cheeks flush and he smiles. He can’t remember the last time he blushed. He continues to help Manny “get there,” so to speak.   
  
Eventually, Manny says “I feel something different now, it feels really  _ strange _ ! But good! Is something going to happen?”

“Yeah,” Hank sighs out. He’s feeling something strange too. Even though he  _ knows _ Manny is dead, he feels full of life. Hank is pretty sure he’s losing his mind, but at this point he doesn’t care. To see Manny breathless, about to cum, all because of  _ his _ touch, it’s.... _ interesting _ .  
  
Hank doesn’t want to admit to himself that he’s aroused. His hand presses harder against Manny’s. The magazine slips off Manny’s lap, but neither of them notice.

“Hank! I  _ feel--oh-- _ ” is all Manny can say before he cums. Hank isn’t entirely sure a dead person has ever ejaculated, but there’s a first time for everything. Manny’s cum face is similar to his regular face: eyes half closed, mouth slack. The major difference is the  _ sounds _ eliciting from his mouth. Hank shifts himself in his pants, trying to lessen the pressure of his own erection.

He doesn’t look down to see the streaks of Manny's cum over his hand. Even when he jacks off (which, at this point in his life, is as welcome as a root canal), he refuses to look at himself until he scrubs his hands completely raw.    
  
Manny’s sighs and moans simmer down and he fully opens his eyes. “ _ Wow! _ That was...amazing!” He half-smiles. “I can’t believe you don’t do this ever, Hank!”    
  
Hank, wiping the cum off into the leaves next to him, mutters, “Yeah, I can’t either sometimes.” His erection is still straining in his pants.    
  



End file.
